


The Chemicals Between Us

by JennaLee



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 12:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15119534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaLee/pseuds/JennaLee
Summary: “So maybe it’s a thing,” Arin says weakly when they finally part for air.“What?” Dan looks dazed. His pupils are blown and his lips are reddened and Arin thinks he looks like sin itself.“The hair. It’s definitely a thing.”“I sort of figured.”





	The Chemicals Between Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [warfstachedark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/warfstachedark/gifts).



Arin’s in a mood.

The AC at the office is broken, again, in the middle of a heat wave. It’s two hundred fucking degrees outside and three hundred inside, with all the computers going and the body heat from some fifteen people. Everybody’s walking around looking like disgruntled wet dogs and the smell of armpits permeates Arin’s office. The drone of fans going is grating and relentless and Arin can’t get fucking anything done. 

Around two PM it gets so bad that Arin makes sure everyone knows they can go home if they want to. Unsafe work environment, and all.

Unfortunately, Arin can’t follow suit.

The last thing Arin wants to do is go sit in a room without windows and no fan, but he literally has no choice. They were getting perilously short on episodes and had lost a bunch from an unexpected problem with Arin’s mic. So he mops the back of his neck with a paper towel, snags a half-frozen water bottle, and stomps off to work.

Dan’s already in the Grump room. He’s the only one looking cool as a cucumber, in actual _jeans_ , the lunatic - Arin’s balls are sweating even in the pair of cotton shorts that barely cover his ass cheeks - with his hair all artlessly tousled instead of plastered to the back of his neck like Arin’s. Arin doesn’t know how he does it. He looks happy, too, and he smiles at Arin like he’s full of energy. Arin’s envious. The heat drains him, makes him feel sluggish and unproductive.

“Holy fuck, I’m dying,” Arin says in greeting. “Do you have a hair tie?”

“Hello to you too, Mr. Grumpypants,” Dan says, but he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts to fish around. “That’s a good idea. I’m getting a little warm. I hope I have two elastics - oh! There’s one, and…just a sec…”

“A little warm?” Arin says incredulously. “ _A little warm?_ It’s a fuckin’ sauna.”

Dan dumps a handful of coins on the cushion next to him and keeps fishing. “You like the sauna.”

“Yeah, but when I’m in the sauna I’m _naked_.”

“With those shorts, you might as well be.”

Arin can’t help but grin. He turns slowly and cocks a hipshot pose, stretching his arms up to make the shorts ride higher.

Dan giggles, and a half-second later Arin feels a sharp _ping_ on the back of his thigh, just below his left cheek. “Jesus fucking Christ, do I have to hire an HR manager to deal with this harassment?”

“Found you a hair tie,” Dan says unnecessarily, and when Arin turns back around Dan’s looking smug and maybe a little flushed and his hands are fidgeting in his lap. He quickly pops his own elastic into his mouth, using both hands to gather his hair. 

Arin watches him struggle. He’s always been fascinated by the texture of Dan’s hair, how the curls can range from perfect coils to a fluffy crinkly mess, yet somehow always look unified. It looks darker in this light, the colour a smooth gradient to sun-bleached blonde at the very ends. One piece sticks straight up, proudly defying gravity and Dan’s repeated attempts to smooth it down. 

“You missed a piece,” Arin tells him helpfully once Dan has wrangled all of his hair down to a single handful. 

Dan rolls his eyes at him and huffs. “Don’t fuck with me,” he says, popping the hair tie over his handful of frizz. 

“Would I fuck with you?”

Dan just raises an eyebrow and runs his hand over his ponytail before dropping his arms back in his lap with a satisfied set to his jaw. 

Arin watches the spiral at the crown of Dan’s head slowly start to lean. When Dan bends his head forward to check his phone, the momentum tips it over onto Dan’s forehead. Dan, startled, slaps at it and then says, “Fuck!”

Arin’s face is sore from grinning and his bad mood has completely vanished. “I told you, you missed a piece.”

Dan makes a face, tugs out the elastic, and tries again. This time Arin circles around behind the couch and says impulsively, “Let me do it?”

“Yeah?” Dan glances over his shoulder, looking startled again. But then he shrugs. “Sure, I guess. Thanks.”

Dan’s hair feels so different beneath Arin’s palms as he gathers it in a bunch. It’s coarse and doesn’t flow together like Arin’s does. It _is_ hard to smooth all the pieces into one handful. Dan’s being good, though, keeping his head up and his back straight, keeping himself steady against Arin’s constant pushing and pulling.

“Are you giving me a sassy high ponytail?” Dan asks with interest.

“Fuck yeah I am. You’re the sass queen.”

“No,” Dan says, sounding pleased, as Arin secures the elastic and lets go of Dan’s hair. “I’m a pineapple.”

And that’s absolutely fucking adorable, even though it’s an old joke that Dan‘s made at least five times before. Arin opens his mouth to say so, but stops, his cheeks flushing hot and tingly.

The silence stretches out a little too long, and Arin doesn’t know _why_ , but the air suddenly feels even thicker and it has nothing to do with the weather. 

And now Dan is looking up at him, his eyes questioning, his grin fading. His lower lip disappears behind his teeth and Arin has to do something now, force himself into action.

“Do mine,” Arin blurts, grabbing the hair tie Dan had flicked at him and collapsing on the couch with his back to Dan. 

“Okay.” Dan blinks and reaches to take it from Arin’s hand. “I don’t know if I’ll be any good at this,” he says. He puts both hands on Arin’s shoulders and tugs him back, guiding him to sit up straighter. Then he runs his fingers experimentally through Arin’s hair and says, “Whoa.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m fuckin’ sweaty.”

“No, you’re fine, it’s just - ” Dan pushes his fingers up just behind Arin’s ear and makes a fist to grab a handful close to the scalp. “It feels crazy good. Like silk.”

“Yeah?” Arin’s mouth gets even dryer at the little zing of pain when Dan gives his hair a tug. He wets his lips with his tongue. “I’ve been using this avocado oil stuff?”

“Huh. I think it’s working. You could be like, a shampoo model.” 

“Like Beyoncé? I dunno if I can compete with that.”

“I think you’re at _least_ as sexy as Beyoncé.” Dan punctuates this by curling a piece of Arin’s blonde streak around one finger.

Arin doesn’t answer. He feels antsy, on edge, almost short of breath. He’s been feeling this way a lot during recording sessions lately, come to think of it. And when Dan comes over in the mornings to work out with Arin and his trainer. He doesn’t think about it, _can’t_ think about it, and he doesn’t know why. 

Or maybe he does and can’t face it.

Dan, distracted, doesn’t notice the quiet. Or maybe he chooses not to acknowledge it. He continues to work, slowly, still fascinated. His fingers are long and bony, and his hands feel huge on Arin’s head. “You want it high, too? Off your neck?” He holds all of Arin’s hair up at the crown of his head and tugs on it again to demonstrate.

This time Arin can’t help the gasp that slips from him. It’s out before he can hold it back. Electricity zings down the back of his neck, down his spine, making his posture sag.

“Did that hurt?” Dan asks anxiously. “Arin?”

Arin swallows. “No. It’s fine.”

Dan runs his hand over the top of Arin’s hair, then pushes his fingers up from the nape of Arin’s neck, smoothing out the bumps. Goose bumps prickle up and down Arin’s arms, and he anticipates Dan’s next touch so he can push himself into it.

“Yeah? Is that good?” Dan murmurs. Arin’s hyper-aware of Dan’s deep breathing. He can feel it against the back of his neck.

“You’re fine. You can go harder if you want.” Arin flushes at the way that sounds and is glad Dan can’t see his face.

“Oh,” is all Dan says. He clumsily loops the elastic around and hesitates, his hands still on Arin’s head. The pressure of his fingers is faint but intense, like one of those wire head massager things.

They sit together like that, frozen. Arin can hear Dan swallow. Finally, he can’t take it anymore.

“Dan?”

“Sorry, sorry, I just. Um.” Dan finally lets go of Arin’s head and snatches his hands back like he’s been burned. “Are we, um, gonna start the - ”

“What? Oh - yeah, dude, yeah, of course.” They’re at work. Doing important things. Like playing video games. Arin clears his throat and swings his legs to the side so he can stand up and go turn on the N64. Too late he notices the heaviness and heat in his groin and the obvious bulge in the front of his too-small shorts. 

Jesus fucking Christ. Arin keeps moving toward the TV, praying Dan hadn’t seen it. It wasn’t a full boner, thank fuck. But even if he did see it, why would it be weird? They’d both seen each other with boners before, courtesy of living together on cramped buses for extended periods of time and working together for more than five years, combined with Arin’s usual contagious lack of shame.

Arin fusses and fidgets with the cartridge while having a very stern mental conversation with his dick. Thankfully it’s not a stubborn half-chub and Arin’s able to talk it down. Dan’s looking at his phone again when Arin walks carefully back to his seat, the lines of his body awkward and tense. Arin stays quiet as he gets the game set up until he has to do the sync check and makes sure all the equipment is working. He can feel Dan eyeing him and it’s driving him insane. 

Finally, before Arin sets the timer, Dan goes, “So, um, Arin?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s not like, a thing for you, is it?” 

“What?”

“Your hair.” Dan waves a hand in the air. “You know.” 

Arin did know. He’d said it before, he was sure, and come to think of it, so had Dan. So he isn’t sure why he denies it now. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Arin echoes.

Dan looks like he’s about to say something else. His face is expressive and he has no hair to hide behind. Arin stares at his strong jaw, his roguish cockeyed brow, the slightly troubled set of his mouth. He steeples his fingers, at Arin stares at them too, remembering the feeling of Dan’s fingertips trailing gently along his scalp.

“Never mind,” Dan finally says, and scrabbles for his phone again.

Arin takes a minute to collect himself too. He clears his throat, drinks some water, rubs the sweating bottle all over the back of his exposed neck. When he closes his eyes he thinks he feels Dan‘s eyes on him, but when he opens them again Dan’s head is ducked down. 

“So are you ready to go?” Arin finally asks.

“What? Oh, yeah.” Dan clears his throat and puts his phone away. “Sure, right. I’m ready, yeah.” 

By the end of a seven episode session, the odd tightness in the room is gone. They’re both relaxed, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, leaning into each other like they always do. Arin’s almost forgotten all about it. He’s pretty sure Dan has, too. 

But then, just as they’re wrapping things up and getting to leave, Dan reaches over and grabs Arin’s ponytail.

Arin’s heart nearly stops.

“What?” Arin leans away, pulling against Dan’s hand, increasing the pain. Whether he does so consciously or unconsciously, he doesn’t really know.

Dan pulls at Arin’s ponytail until Arin has to shut his eyes to prevent sensory overload. The elastic slips easily off of his smooth, straight hair.

“This is mine,” Dan says, a little rough, making Arin’s stomach flip over. Before Arin can say anything else, Dan shoves the hair tie in his pocket and ducks out of the Grump room, leaving Arin standing there flushed and bewildered.

And apparently, hard as a rock.

Everything he’s tried to keep buried way down is coming up and he can’t escape.

“We talked about this,” Arin tells his dick. “Not at work, okay? Are you gonna go away on your own?”

The answer, apparently, was no.

“Well, fuck.”

There’s nobody left in the office but Dan, whom Arin’s pretty sure he’s going to head back to his desk. Arin could slip into the bathroom easily, get rid of his boner before leaving, and nobody would ever notice. 

His hand moves down to his crotch to cup himself, his heartbeat pounding loud in his ears. Arin inhales deeply as the touch sends shockwaves through him. His scalp tingles where Dan had pulled his hair.

He’s so lost in his head that he doesn’t hear the footsteps until it’s too late. 

“Shit, I think I forgot my - ”

Arin doesn’t have time to move. Dan walks right fucking into him. He smacks into Arin’s chest, grabs his shoulders and goes, “Oh shit Arin I - ”

And then he freezes.

Arin’s dick is pressing into his hip. There’s no hiding what it is.

“Dan,” he croaks. “Um.”

Dan’s eyes are wide. His hands are still on Arin’s shoulders. “Arin?”

“Yeah?” Arin practically squeaks.

Dan looks right at him and doesn’t move away. “I thought you said it wasn’t a thing.”

“It’s not - it’s - it wasn’t because - ” Arin trips over his tongue. “I was just gonna, um, I’m backed up so maybe I’ll just - ”

“Go take care of that?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

Silence from Dan. He’s not turning to leave. He’s still not letting go of Arin’s shoulders.

“Dan?”

And Dan’s gaze travels down Arin’s body, lingering at his crotch. The heat in his eyes is almost too much to handle. Arin’s dick pulses and he fights the urge to rut against Dan.

This isn’t the first time Arin’s realized how fucking gorgeous Dan really is. Dan practically exudes sex, with his casual classic good looks and striking hair and those legs that were approximately one mile long. Not to mention his stage persona-slash-alter ego, with all the Spandex and sex talk and hip-thrusting onstage. He’d had a crush since before he’d even _met_ the man. Suzy knew, and had voiced her consent. But never had Arin thought that something might actually happen.

“You could.” Dan’s voice goes ragged. “If you wanted, you could. Um. There’s nobody else in the building, I think.”

“Yeah, everyone left but us.”

“So, you could…” Dan trails off.

“What?”

“You could, you know. You don’t have to go anywhere.” When Arin just stares, Dan elaborates haltingly. “You could take care of it here.”

“You seriously - ” Arin begins. He doesn’t even know how to speak the fucking English language anymore. He tries again. “Dan, don’t fuck with me, okay?”

“Not fucking with you,” Dan assures him. “I wouldn’t do that to you, big cat.”

The sweet nickname bubbles up out of nowhere, and Arin’s dick gives another jump. This time Dan feels it too. He blinks once and pulls back, just a little, looking like he’s gathering himself together. He takes one hand off of Arin’s shoulder and shoves it roughly into his hair. Arin’s head gets jerked backward and he groans, loud and thick. His cock throbs desperately, still pressed firmly into Dan’s bony hip.

“Is this okay?” Dan asks, looking him full in this face as he pulls Arin’s hair. “This is okay, yeah?”

Arin nods clumsily. “Yeah. Yeah, shit, you can - you can do that as hard as you want.”

Dan pulls harder and angles himself so that they’re flush against each other, Arin’s cock now jutting into Dan’s crotch. It takes him longer than it should to realize that he‘s not the only one who’s aroused . He isn‘t sure when that happened, because Dan is a big pokey mess of bones and angles and sharp knobby knees, so there’s always something hard pressing into him when he’s this close to Dan. 

Dan’s giving him a sort of sidelong grin. “Yeah, um, so you’re not alone in Boner City.”

“Dan,” is all Arin has. “Fuck, Dan. _Danny._ ”

In a move that surprises them both, Dan wrenches Arin’s head forward so their foreheads bump, noses smashed together. Arin feels Dan’s erratic breath against his own lips. 

Dan pulls back a few inches, his hand fisted in Arin’s hair, eyes on Arin’s mouth. Arin’s heart stutters. They trade heavy breaths, neither one closing the short space between them.

“Shit,” Arin swears under his breath. He can’t do it.

Dan inhales sharply. He looks into Arin’s eyes, searching. Searching for consent, maybe. 

Arin gives a short jerky nod, and suddenly the hand in his hair tightens and Dan’s pulling him even closer, making Arin come to him rather than lean in himself. The act of dominance turns Arin pliant in Dan’s arms, and their first kiss is all fire and lust and years of built-up tension crashing like waves against their feet. 

“So maybe it’s a thing,” Arin says weakly when they finally part for air. 

“What?” Dan looks dazed. His pupils are blown and his lips are reddened and Arin thinks he looks like sin itself.

“The hair. It’s definitely a thing.”

“I sort of figured.”

“I like it being played with and I _really_ like it being pulled.”

“Yeah?” Dan seems to grow bolder. He leans in, lips brushing Arin’s ear. “That’s…really fucking hot, Arin.”

Dan rolls his hips, friction sparking hot in Arin’s groin as his cock rubs up against the hard metal zipper of Dan’s jeans. Arin’s brain short-circuits and he moans again, shuddering. When he looks down there’s a wet spot on the front of his shorts. He’s soaked through two layers already.

Dan looks down and sees it too. His breath hitches and his fingernails dig into Arin’s scalp, grabbing a new handful of hair and winding it between his long fingers. 

“So, uh,” Dan begins, a little hoarse. “You think you can show me how you get yourself off?”

“You just want me to jack it while you watch?”

Dan colours a little but doesn’t back down. “I want you to do whatever you want to do, okay. And yeah, I want to watch.”

“Okay,” Arin answers, soft. “Okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Fuck yeah I will.” 

They stare at each other.

Eventually Arin figures the easiest thing to do is to just dive headfirst into this and not get into his head about it. As Dan watches, Arin shucks off his shirt and steps out of his tiny cotton shorts. He doesn’t usually wear briefs but he did today, since most of his briefs are longer than the shorts he was wearing.

“Holy shit,” Dan takes a hesitant step forward. “Holy shit, Arin.”

And then he lunges at Arin faster than Arin’s ever seen him move.

Dan’s lips meet his, one hand in Arin’s hair and one sliding down Arin’s back to his ass. He’s a damn good kisser - Arin had always figured he would be - and he kisses Arin like he’s been waiting to do this as long as Arin had. When Dan squeezes a handful of Arin’s ass and nips at his bottom lip, his dick throbs and he remembers what Dan had asked for.

“Fuck,” Arin mumbles, turning his face for air. Dan’s mouth slides to his jaw as he yanks at his hair, and Arin’s pretty much done for. “Dan, okay, either we get this started or I’m going to explode.”

Dan shuts him up with another kiss but steps forward, pushing Arin at the couch. They end up walking backward together toward the couch. Arin’s lost in the taste of Dan’s tongue, the way he’s taking control. The backs of his knees hit the Grump couch and Arin sits down heavily, Dan following into his lap on top of him.

Dan’s so light, even with almost all his weight settled on Arin’s thighs. Arin can barely think like this. Having Dan on top of him, leaning in to press his nose into Arin’s neck - it’s a scene straight out of his mental book of jerk-off fantasies and he can’t fucking believe it’s really happening.

And then, just like in his fantasies, Dan takes his shirt off. Arin reaches out to hold his tiny waist to keep him upright as Dan uses both hands to pull his shirt over his head. His skin is hot and smooth, his stomach one shade paler than his sun-kissed arms and face. Arin says, “Jesus” and scrabbles one-handed at the button of Dan’s jeans.

Dan exhales hard and helps Arin in his quest. He squirms out of scratchy denim, and now he’s just in his underwear and he’s all warm and soft and against Arin. Arin pulls Dan forward, kissing the jut of his collarbone to hear him moan. 

“Arin,” Dan says, and then his voice deepens when Arin’s tongue laps at his nipple. “ _Arin,_ hey.”

“What?” Arin kisses the puckered bud.

“You should take your underwear off now.”

“Um,” Arin almost squeaks. “Yeah, okay.”

Arin’s generally not self-conscious about being naked. He’d whip off his clothes at the Korean spa in front of Barry and Ross and Brian and whoever the fuck else came along without a second thought. But this is _Dan_ , and Arin’s pretty damn sure Dan’s never been this close to a hard dick besides his own. Not that Arin has, but he’s done a lot of fantasizing and watched a lot of gay porn, so he’s pretty sure that counts for something.

So he’s hesitant, but he’s also really fucking horny, and Dan’s waiting with parted lips, so Arin just goes for it. 

He clumsily pushes the waistband down and lifts his ass to get them all the way off. Dan moves with him, still on top, his eyes huge.

“This is okay?” Arin prompts when Dan’s been staring at his boner for a good twenty seconds. “Dan?”

Dan surprises the shit out of him by reaching between them and skating his palm lightly over the tip. Arin’s hips jerk and a groan rumbles through him. Dan’s hand hovers and his eyes dart back and forth between Arin’s face and Arin’s dick, and in one or the other he finds the inspiration to touch it again, still feather-light. This time he makes a loose fist and slides it down Arin’s shaft.

“Wow, um, this…wow.” Dan stares at the wet bead at Arin’s tip. “Do you…can you…I…”

Arin groans again. “Dan, you’re hot as fuck and I love you, but I can’t play Twenty Questions with you right now. Either keep touching it or let me touch it.”

“Pushy,” Dan says, but looks thoughtful. “Can you show me how?”

“You want instructions on how to touch a dick?”

“I get the general concept, I think,” Dan says dryly. “I mean, I want you to show me how you do it. Like when you’re alone.”

“Well,” Arin laughs tightly. “I normally have other stuff to help.”

“Like lube?”

“Yeah. And, you know. Toys.”

“ _Dildos?_ ”

“Well, not dildos, plural, but yeah.”

“And…it feels good?”

Arin rolls his eyes. “Yes, Dan, it feels fuckin’ amazing to have something up my ass. I’ve told you this.”

“I wasn’t sure if you were serious.”

“I’m always serious about butt stuff.”

Dan laughs shakily. “Think you can manage without it this time?”

Arin looks at the bulge in Dan’s boxers and thinks _maybe we could, next time_ and also _fuck he’s big_ and then _he’d feel so good, I want that, god, I do_.

“Arin?”

“Yeah.” Arin licks his palm and takes himself in hand, holding his breath at how fucking hard and ready he feels. His balls are drawn up tight and he feels so much pressure that it‘s almost uncomfortable. 

Dan shuts up quick and leans back to study Arin closely. 

Arin isn’t used to this much scrutiny when he jerks off, but once he gets used to the feeling of Dan’s eyes on him, he finds that he likes it. He’s a natural performer, always has been, and he loves to impress Dan. Dan’s gasps are music, the faint soap-sweet smell of him intoxicating. His body weight holds Arin’s legs in place, and while Arin could buck him off if he really wanted to, it’s hot to pretend that Dan’s pinning him down. 

“Fuck” slips from Arin’s mouth. His hand speeds up, expertly twisting on the upstroke, the pad of his thumb catching the underside of the head. The spit on his hand is already drying up but it doesn’t matter because he’s leaking like crazy, like the mere thought of getting fucked is enough to make his body respond like it does when Arin nudges against his prostate.

Just when he’s found his rhythm and starts to work himself up to climax, good and slow and steady, Dan decides he’s had enough of watching. 

“Let me try again,” Dan says out of nowhere, and grabs Arin’s wrist to yank his hand away. 

Arin actually _whimpers_ , fuck, he loves Dan taking control. “Please,” he begs. “Fuck, please touch me.”

Dan swears under his breath. He flings Arin’s arm to the side, then widens his stance and leans forward. His left hand seizes Arin by the hair and his right hand wraps around the base of Arin’s cock.

And that’s it. Arin’s totally fucking gone. Dan strokes him in an almost perfect imitation of Arin doing it to himself while pulling Arin’s hair to the same rhythm. Arin’s hips start to rock and the noises coming from him are embarrassingly pornographic. 

“Dan,” he gasps. “Dan, please, harder,” and he doesn’t know if he means the hand job or the hair pulling and he doesn’t care.

Dan takes his hand and rakes his fingers through the front of Arin’s hair, hard enough to hurt, and when Arin says “Holy _fuck_ ” and tries to fight the pressure pushing his head back, Dan hisses through his teeth and tightens his grip on Arin’s dick.

“Fuck, Arin.” Dan clumsily kisses Arin’s neck, hand working harder, his fingers slick and gliding velvety-smooth from Arin’s pre-come. “I can’t believe we’re doing this, can’t believe how fucking hot you look.”

“You can do more,” Arin pants, mindless. “You can do anything you want.”

Dan doesn’t answer right away. When the pressure on his hair eases, Arin lifts his head and looks at him.

Dan is actually shaking. His eyes are two dark pools of pure want. When he sees Arin looking at him, Dan shoves his boxers down and his dick springs out, long and thick and as gorgeous as the rest of him. Arin takes one look and his mouth actually starts to water. He surges forward, but Dan apparently has other plans.

“What,” Arin says as Dan tugs him sideways, urging him to lay down. “What are you - ”

“Just, let me - ” Dan worms his way between Arin and the back of the couch. 

Arin goes to turn to face him but Dan shoves at his shoulder again, and eventually with some grunts and awkward maneuvering they end up basically spooning, with Arin as the little spoon and Dan behind him. Dan’s arm snakes around Arin’s hip and grabs Arin’s dick again, and Arin is okay with this, though he doesn’t get it, exactly. Not until he hears Dan spit, and suddenly something hot and hard like steel wrapped in velvet pushes through Arin’s thighs, and Dan groans loud in Arin’s ear.

“Oh,” Arin says stupidly, his heart thumping. “Oh, fuck, yeah, okay.”

“You like that?” Dan nips at the nape of Arin’s neck and thrusts his hips. “Always loved your thighs, Arin, such a fuckin’ tease walking around in those shorts.”

Arin shivers at the pain and tenses up his thighs to increase the squeeze. He loves Dan’s lips so close to his ear so he can hear every little sound Dan makes in response. 

“Next time,” Arin tells him between gasps, “you can fuck me for real, if you want - ”

Dan’s hips stutter. “I, fuck. I’ve been thinking about that since you fuckin’ told me you finger yourself.”

“You’ve wanted to fuck me for years and you haven’t said anything?” Arin’s proud of that coherent sentence. Dan’s experimenting with his strokes, curiously cupping Arin’s heavy sac, and it’s incredible that Arin can form any words at all.

“Should have told me you wanted it.” Dan’s mouth slides along Arin’s shoulder, sucking marks onto his skin. “Should’ve known I’d do anything to make you feel good, Arin, fuck, love you so fucking much - ”

Leave it to Dan to get sappy while fucking Arin’s thighs at work on the Grump couch. Arin squeezes around Dan’s dick and says, “Love you too, now come on, please, make me come.”

Dan has to shuffle a bit to get his arm up and into Arin’s hair. He pulls, and Arin moans, and the new position makes Dan slip out of place, his cock driving up and nestling between Arin’s ass cheeks.

They both freeze in place and moan together in disbelief.

“Fuck,” Dan whimpers, giving an experimental thrust. He lets go of Arin’s cock and puts his hand on Arin’s ass, spreading him open. Arin’s still in shock, arousal pulsing through his veins like fire, his scalp aching so good. He’s sweating enough that Dan’s dick still slides easily against his skin, against his fucking asshole, so close, so goddamn close. Dan could just reach down and maybe add a little more spit and ease himself in, just life that. He could…Arin wants…

“Not yet,” Dan whispers, and Arin reddens when he realizes he’s been babbling out loud. “Can’t hurt you, Arin, I’d want to do it right.”

And then Dan speeds up both his hand and his thrusts, fucking the crease of Arin’s ass and making his whole body rock, and whatever noises he’s making are drowned out by Arin’s cries. Arin’s thighs cramp and his neck cramps and he’s hot and sweaty and his mouth is hanging open and he’s _right there_ , fuck, almost -

Dan bites down _hard_ on the back of Arin’s neck and pulls his hips back. “Fuck” is all he has time to say, and then Arin feels a wet splash land on his skin, dripping down over the curve of his ass and into his crack. Another, and another, and Dan’s shaking against him. His hand is moving more weakly on Arin’s dick, but it’s enough - it’s more than enough.

“Dan,” Arin whimpers, as he bucks his hips and comes over Dan’s fingers. Everything goes white around the edges and he feels like he’s floating, floating in bliss just outside reality, riding high on a wave that doesn’t break for at least ten seconds. It’s one of the longest orgasms Arin’s ever fucking had.

Dan kisses his shoulder and squeezes him gently, milking out every last drop until Arin, oversensitive, makes a tiny noise of complaint. Then he lets go and wraps his arms around Arin’s shoulders instead.

Arin, completely and utterly spent, goes limp and just lets Dan hold him. The desperate thing that’s been clawing around the inside of Arin’s brain for months or maybe years is finally quiet. 

Eventually, though, Arin remembers that it’s two hundred and fifty degrees and Dan’s come is drying like tacky glue on him, making him stick to both Dan and the couch. He grunts and Dan sits up, letting Arin finally move. Arin squirms back into his shirt and underwear so his sweat-damp skin doesn’t stick to Dan when they settle back on the couch sitting next to each other like always. 

The first thing Dan says to him is, “I meant it, you know.”

“About the butt fucking?”

Dan snorts. “ _Jesus_ , Arin! No - well yes. But what I meant was, I really do love you.”

“I know that, you doof. I love you too. Always have.”

Dan’s hand comes to curl around Arin’s big thigh. Arin puts his own hand on top of it. They’re being quiet but it’s not awkward, not even a little bit. Arin doesn’t have any reservations about how this would change things between them or affect their friendship or work relationship. Somehow, he knows everything’s gonna be okay. He’s just curious, not apprehensive, about what’s going to happen next.

Dan clears his throat and says, “So, um, hey. What do you think about coming over to my place for a shower?”

“A together shower?” Arin lifts his head, pleased at the idea. “That sounds pretty fuckin’ good to me.”

“It’s a bit of a tight squeeze,” Dan admits, “but I think it’ll be fun.”

Arin leers at Dan and waggles his eyebrows until Dan turns red and goes, “Oh my God, _Arin_!”

They fall apart laughing, just like always, and Arin meets Dan’s eyes and knows that things are only going to get better from here.


End file.
